


nothing in between

by eg1701



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, they need Therapy(tm), tom doing what he does best when he's upset: be a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701
Summary: Tom's already having a pretty terrible morning, and then they run into Greg's ex. It's not quite the straw that breaks the camel's back but it might as well be.a companion, of sorts, tothis
Relationships: Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	nothing in between

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this when i couldn't sleep last night and finished it up this morning 
> 
> yes, the title is also part of a lyric from line without a hook

Tom thought he knew all of Greg’s friends. There weren’t actually that many to begin with. A few people from the office who were brave enough to come back after the senate hearings. One or two college friends from back home that Tom had met briefly on a video call. But this face was new.

“I didn’t know you were in New York,” Greg said after he’d pulled away from the fucking _hug._ Friends in-fucking-deed.

“Just for the week,” the man replied. He was very handsome, Tom thought. Probably Greg’s age, and if the quality of his clothes was anything to go by, he wasn’t struggling. But standing in this fucking cafe, while Greg talked and smiled with this man, Tom felt the familiar gnawing of jealously in his stomach. 

And it’s not like he had any evidence that there was something to be jealous over. He had no idea how Greg knew this man, and maybe there was nothing there. 

“Oh,” Greg said, turning around, like he’d only just remembered Tom standing there, “Brandon, this is my fiancé Tom. Tom, this is Brandon. We went to college together.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tom said, though it wasn’t really. The name was familiar, an ex hookup of Greg’s from ‘back in the day,’ as Greg had phrased it. And Tom _knew_ that it was deeply fucked up to be angry or whatever it was he was feeling about a college hookup of Greg’s, but the fight they had that morning weighed heavily on his mind, and seemed to poke at the insecurities he had discovered multiplying since they had gotten engaged, “Greg’s told me about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Brandon laughed. He seemed annoyingly good natured, “Engaged? I didn’t think you’d ever get engaged Greg.”

“Yeah,” Greg chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, like, Tom kind of came out of nowhere.”

It had been a stupid fight anyway. 

Tom had woken up with a shitty headache, and shouted at Greg to quit fucking slamming doors and did he had to make so much noise making breakfast? And then Greg had told Tom that he didn’t need to talk to him like that, it wasn’t Greg’s fault he had a headache and they’d barely resolved it by the time they had to leave. Tom knew it was his fault. He should have apologized to Greg for being a dick when he didn’t feel well, but he was tired and still felt like shit, and wanted to start the day over.

They were going to have bad days, Tom knew. Every couple had bad days. Tonight, he could stop being an asshole, he would pull Greg into his arms and he would tell him how sorry he was and how much he loved him and that he was really trying to be better. That would be it. Greg would apologize too, and Tom would tell him not to, and it would be over.

But right now, he wasn’t thinking about any of that. He was thinking about Greg’s good looking and apparently wealthy ex from college. 

“What are you doing in the city?” Greg asked.

Tom excused himself to wait for their order. He didn’t want to watch the conversation, but he soon realized they were close enough to the counter so that he could hear them over the din of the other patrons. Maybe it was just the aspirin he’d taken before leaving the apartment wearing off, but he wanted very much to go back to bed. 

“Business trip,” Brandon said, “I ended up in finance.”

“Just like you wanted,” Greg said, “Hey, like, good for you man.”

“And you’re getting married? You never wanted to get married.”

“Yeah. I know. I can’t, like, it’s really complicated.”

“He looks older than you.”

“Yeah, well, yeah. But not like, _that_ much objectively. Besides, like, I do love him.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like you. You were always… flighty.”

Tom didn’t like how Brandon was talking about Greg, who would fully admit he’d been a space cadet for most of his life, and had absolutely no plausible ambitions until the semi recent future. When he thought about it, Tom was pretty sure that Greg had really liked Brandon, but they’d ended over Greg’s distinct lack of ambition and commitment. 

He glanced behind the counter, where he was pretty sure the barista was working on their drinks. He bounced on his heels and waited. Caffeine would help. Their coffee machine was on the fritz, and even though Greg had _said_ he would fix it, it was still broken.

When it rained, it fucking stormed. No wonder they’d been so snippy with each other. Tom’s headache, and the broken coffee maker, and the gloomy weather-- it was supposed to full on storm later, and the dark clouds seemed to be gaining on him, and now Greg’s perfect fucking specimen of an ex, all mixed together was bound to end up poorly.

“Well congratulations,” Brandon said, “I guess? Right?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re alright Greg?”

“I’m fine,” Greg said, and Tom could hear the slight irritation in his voice, “Tom doesn’t feel well. I think we’ll probably head home.”

And it wasn’t even an untrue statement. Tom _didn’t_ feel well, but for some fucking reason, he didn’t want Brandon knowing that. Not Brandon, who was eyeing Greg in a way Tom had seen from waiters and people on the street and baristas and women in clubs. 

It was the way _he_ looked at Greg. 

Attraction. Lust. Whatever the _fuck _equally horrible word it was. Maybe Brandon had been happy to break it off years ago, but he still thought Greg was hot. That was clear. And it made Tom feel like a fucking high schooler to be thinking all this, but why the fuck not? Usually, Tom didn’t mind when people looked at Greg like that. Greg never even noticed unless Tom pointed it out, and he never even cared anyway.__

__He had tried though, in the earlier days of their relationship, to get Greg to admit that he wanted something else, just to deal with it before marriage certificates were signed and fucking, bank accounts were joined. But Greg was a stubborn fucker, and Tom mostly gave up._ _

__The jealousy continued to eat him. He accepted the drinks from the barista and forced himself to smile, even though she looked concerned back._ _

__“Are you ready to go?” Tom asked._ _

__“Oh sure,” Greg replied, “It was really good to see you man. Keep in touch right?”_ _

__“It was good to see you too Greg.”_ _

__“Here,” Tom handed it all off to Greg and watched Brandon step forward to the counter._ _

__“Do you feel better?” Greg asked, genuine concern filling his tone. And fuck him for that. Like Tom _already_ didn’t feel like shit._ _

__“No,” Tom replied. He knew he was harsher than he needed to be, but he wanted to go home. Or at least be anywhere that wasn’t here, “Are you done reconnecting with your long fucking lost lover?”_ _

__“Dude.”_ _

__“Never mind.”_ _

__“You’ll be less intolerable to be around when you’ve had some fucking coffee I hope,” Greg said, and brushed past him, straight through the door and outside._ _

__Tom hurried after him, jealousy mixing with his growing irritation._ _

__“I’m serious,” Tom said, because he didn’t like being cut off like that, not when he wasn’t done talking, “Why don’t you invite him over? I’ll spend the evening out and you two can have a grand fucking old time.”_ _

__“You’re literally impossible to talk to sometimes,” Greg muttered, “Why do I even say anything to you?”_ _

__***_ _

__“Why are you acting like this?” Greg asked, grabbing Tom by the elbow to stop him from leaving when they got home. Greg wanted to _talk_ about it but Tom wanted to do no such thing, “You’re, like, extra pissed off ever since we got home. More so than when we left”_ _

__“I’m fine,” Tom replied, though even he could hear the tension in his tone, and even though he was having trouble unclenching his jaw, “Why the fuck would I not be fine?”_ _

__“I don’t actually know man,” Greg stared at him with his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes, and Tom pulled his arm away, “I was sort of hoping that you would tell me. Like, did I do something in the time we were out? I don’t think that I did, but you can tell me if I did.”_ _

__Tom shook his head, “You didn’t do anything. Just… I need some time to myself alright? Can you leave me alone for five fucking minutes?”_ _

__Greg’s hand fell to his side, and Tom thought he looked distinctly hurt, “Sure. Of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll be in the kitchen for whenever you’ve decided to talk to me.”_ _

__He turned on his heel and Tom watched him go, just long enough to know he didn’t look back, and he stormed off to the bedroom. He hated how hurt Greg had looked. Hated himself for making Greg look that way._ _

__Jesus, was he really the worst fucking person in the world?_ _

__He stalked through the bedroom and right into the bathroom. He’d take some more aspirin, lay in the dark for a bit, and then he’d have a clearer head. Because the pounding in his skull had come back with a frenzy on the walk home. Greg slammed something somewhere, stewing, clearly, in his own anger. Tom flung open the medicine cabinet, but wherever he’d left the aspirin that morning, it wasn’t there._ _

__It was enough to really send him over the edge. It was like when you were _already_ on the verge, and someone made a comment, or you spilled your drink, or missed your train, and that was it. He slammed the cabinet shut, and sat down on the floor. _ _

__At least the bathmat was soft._ _

__The bathroom lights were too bright, but he didn’t want to expend the energy to stand up and turn them off. Instead he shut his eyes and leaned back against the sink counter. Eventually he’d have to venture out to find the fucking bottle, but facing the outside world-- or at least the world outside the bathroom, seemed far to much for right now._ _

__There was a very light knock on the door. He pressed down a groan. Couldn’t Greg do as he asked?_ _

__“What?” he called._ _

__“I thought you might want the aspirin,” Greg called back. He sounded completely neutral about it all. Tom had always thought Greg was good at hiding his real thoughts. Sometimes Tom could tell what he was thinking, but if Greg wanted to, there’d be no real way to tell, “It was in the kitchen.”_ _

__“Well bring it in then.”_ _

__The door opened and Greg slipped in. He looked down at Tom in surprise._ _

__“Why are you on the ground?”_ _

__“I don’t fucking know,” Tom shook his head and let out a weak chuckled. It sounded distinctly defeated, “Are you holding that for ransom or can I have it?”_ _

__“Sorry,” Greg knelt down and handed him the aspirin bottle and a glass of water. He downed two pills and half the water quickly, “That’ll help.”_ _

__“Thanks. Glad you’re here to tell me the fucking obvious. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”_ _

__“You don’t need to take your fucking anger out on me Tom,” Greg said firmly, almost coldly, “It’s not my fault you don’t feel well. All you’ve done today is be mad at me. I didn’t give you a fucking headache.”_ _

__They were both working on things._ _

__Tom was working on dealing with his anger in a healthy way. Talking it over with the person he was upset with, and not Greg who did not deserve to be his personal fucking punching bag. And Greg was working on standing up for himself when Tom failed at that. Maybe it was too unhealthy to last. He hoped to God that wasn’t true. They could do it. If they tried-- even though Tom thought he had to try harder. He deserved to be the one that had to try harder._ _

__“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered, “I really am.”_ _

__“I know,” Greg settled down on the floor, eventually crossing his legs so he could fit in the spot between Tom and the door, “Do you want to talk about it man? Like, did something happen?_ _

__“I think a lot happened,” Tom frowned. His therapist had been trying to help him deal with his emotions in a verbal and healthy way. And Greg was willing to listen, had promised he’d _always_ be willing to listen, but Tom had to actually fucking talk, “I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning for being loud honey. I didn’t mean to. I really felt like shit.”_ _

__“I know you get bad headaches,” Greg said, “If I had known I would have been quieter.”_ _

__“But you didn’t. So don’t apologize for it.”_ _

__“I take it back then.”_ _

__Tom cracked a smile, “I think I’m jealous of Brandon.”_ _

__“Why?” Greg cocked his head, “You for sure don’t need to be jealous of him.”_ _

__“I get that dipshit. But he still has the hots for you.”_ _

__“Ew,” Greg made a face, “Don’t say that. That’s fucking weird man.”_ _

__“You never see it Greg, but _I_ do. I see how people fucking look at you. Like they want to get in your pants then and there. I don’t know.”_ _

__“Tom, like, I know you’ve got some seriously unresolved issues. I know that. But I’m not sure how to convince you that you definitely don’t need to be jealous. Brandon didn’t even fucking like me that much when we were together.”_ _

__Tom shrugged._ _

__“Are you feeling better?”_ _

__Tom shrugged, “Maybe. I don’t fucking know.”_ _

__“How about,” Greg leaned over, “I help you off the floor and, like, tuck you into bed or whatever. I’ll bring you your coffee. And then we can talk, like, _not_ in the two feet of space here. It’s like, _incredibly_ uncomfortable on my legs.”_ _

__“Cause they’re freakishly long.”_ _

__“Yeah right?” Greg pushed himself off the floor, and then pulled Tom up after him._ _

__“The way that I treated you this morning was unacceptable,” Tom said. He should have said it sooner, and should never have let it get that far to begin with, but better late than never, “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“I know that you are.”_ _

__***_ _

__Even though Tom was perfectly fine on the bathroom floor, he let Greg put him to bed, and fuss for a minute, before bringing back another glass of water and his still warm coffee. Greg sat down on the edge of the bed, like you might sit and talk with somebody who was really ill. But that was better than Greg leaving him right now._ _

__“You know,” Tom held the warm cup in his hands, “When we first got together, fuck Greg. I tried so hard to make myself so _awful_ that you would grow tired of me. You’d blow up or whatever, and make it clear that I could go to hell or whatever. I’m a prick, Greg.”_ _

__“You’re not _that_ bad.”_ _

__Tom shook his head, “Regardless. I kept thinking, _this_ will be what puts him over the edge. _This_ is what will send him away. And it’s not that I wanted you to leave me Greg. But after all the shit I did to you _before_ we started fucking, I grew curious as to what the line was. The thing is that I don’t ever want you to leave me. But I wonder if you couldn’t find someone… nicer. Better. I think you could do better than me Greg.”_ _

__The words sat in front of them, and at first, Greg said nothing, which made Tom fucking _terrified.__ _

__“I don’t want somebody better,” Greg said, and then shook his head when he realized what he’d said, “No like, that’s not what I meant.”_ _

__Tom laughed, “You fucking idiot.”_ _

__“But what I’m saying is that I love you. And like, you definitely can’t help falling in love with someone. I want you.”_ _

__“I love you too.”_ _

__“Dude, like, if I didn’t want to be with you I wouldn’t put myself through the fucking drama of it all. Cause, no offense, it’s a whole fucking _deal_ with you. I had to go to the senate dude. I _want_ to marry you.”_ _

__“You’re so romantic it makes me sick.”_ _

__“You’re _already_ sick that’s why you were so mean to me this morning.”_ _

__Tom set his coffee down on the bedside table and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Greg as he did so. He felt Greg sigh, and tighten his own grip. It was dark in the room still, since Tom had never drawn the curtains that morning, and just cold enough to leech warmth from his skin._ _

__“Can we start today over?” Tom asked, even though it came out a bit muffled against Greg’s shirt, “I promise not to be an asshole. Not to be _as much of_ an asshole. I don’t think I can promise not to be asshole at all.”_ _

__“Sure,” Greg replied, “We can start over. But, like, it’s raining now? So I don’t want to go back outside and really like, start over. And running into my ex was awkward as hell. Tom?”_ _

__“Hmm?”_ _

__“I’m not mad at you. Like, when I said that you were impossible or whatever, I take it back.”_ _

__“Will you stay here, with me? Just for another second or so. I know this is weird or whatever you want to call it.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Greg kissed the top of his head, “Course I will.”_ _

__Tom didn’t like asking for things like that. Mostly, he felt almost embarrassed by it. He wasn’t sure why, really. Perhaps it was from the time in between the people who seemed not to mind it-- his parents and Greg. Everybody in between, Shiv and otherwise, had given him the impression, without explicitly saying it, that he was too clingy. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t need to be reassured and comforted like a baby. He shouldn’t _ask_ for that kind of thing._ _

__Only Greg never seemed to think so. If Tom asked, Greg would give._ _

__What the fuck was _that_ about?_ _

__“I love you,” Greg said again, like he could _hear_ Tom’s unasked and mostly rhetorical question, “Even though you kind of suck sometimes. How’s your headache?”_ _

__“Better. I don’t know. The aspirin helped. It’s fucking depressing outside.”_ _

__“I like thunderstorms.”_ _

__“Of course you do, you fucking freak.”_ _

__Greg laughed, which was what Tom hoped for. He didn’t want Greg to think he was still being mean, still trying to hurt, or whatever it was he was aiming for._ _

__“Move over,” Greg said suddenly._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“I’m coming back to bed. If, like, we’re starting the day over, we’re starting at the beginning.”_ _

__Tom rolled his eyes and bitched the entire time that Greg situated himself in bed, and then settled down on Greg’s chest quietly. Greg snaked an arm around him and sighed. His headache _was_ getting better, though Tom still didn’t feel his best. Greg ran a hand through Tom’s hair and pulled him a little closer._ _

__He chuckled._ _

__“What are you laughing about dipshit?” Tom muttered._ _

__“Like, at least Brandon isn’t your cousin. Imagine if that was the case?”_ _

__“Fuck off Greg,” Tom pulled the covers up, pressed his face as hard against Greg as he could, and took a deep breath, “You’re a fucking comedian aren’t you.”_ _

__“I think I’m, like, pretty funny man, I don’t know why you don’t.”_ _

__“Goodnight,” Tom said, despite the fact that it was only just after eleven._ _

__“Sleep tight.”_ _

__"I love you."_ _

__He felt Greg chuckle again, "I love you too."_ _

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhh thanks? i hope it's not godawful?


End file.
